Everything can change in the blink of an eye
by CA00273
Summary: Priestly/Tish Highschool AU. Angst. Tears. Love. OOC. Highschool might be the worst place on earth for some people. Not for Tish. For her it's a get away. A sanctuary.
1. Chapter 1

**PLOT Highschool might be a pain in the ass, but sometimes it's the place where you meet someone new. Someone you can learn to trust. Someone to love. **

**I own nothing. I hope you will all enjoy this, and let me know what you think.**

* * *

I pulled my hood up to cover from the rain as I walked out the door as quietly as I could. She was at work, but He was home. Passed out, but home. I knew that if I made any noise, and He woke up, I would pay the price. Like many times before.

I hurried to school, but I still made it just as the bell rang. Wanting the day to go slow, of course it didn't. Lunch came faster than normally, and even though I hated school, I hated being at that house even more. But in a year I would be eighteen. I had made it through three years of suffering already, I could make another year. And then I would be free. Hopefully.

Every table was filled with flocks of people from different groups. Jocks, cheerleaders, prom queens, nerds, the "normal" people. Then there was the few empty tables – all of them just that. Except for one. There used to be two, but the other one was taken today. I always sat at the same one, the one furthest away from anyone else, and then there was another guy. He was always alone. I did only see him at lunch, but I had never seen him talk to someone. He always had his head in some sort of book or something. I wasn't quite sure what it was.

I think he was a year older than me, about to graduate in a few months, but I wasn't sure. I didn't even have a yearbook to look through to know his name.

My feet led me to his table since the one I used to sit at was taken.

"Is this seat taken?" I usually wasn't this confident when it came to talking – I rarely talked to people – but this guy seemed different. He was a loner, like me.

"If you're here to give me some lame comment about my hair, or the way I look, screw it. I've heard it all before."

He didn't even look up from the book, and now I noticed that he was writing something in it. So he liked to write.

"I actually think it's cool."

I had talked to him for what, two seconds, and I already admired him. He stood out. He choose to stand out, to not care about what people said. I just crawled into my own skin and wanted to be invisible.

He had a red mohawk, a piercing through his nose, and he always wore shirts with witty texts.

He actually looked up at me now, and for the first time I saw his face up close. His jawline was marked, his lips was full for a guy, his nose was perfect and his eyes held a piercing green color. They were deep, and I might have been staring into them.

He was easy on the eyes, and I never would have thought so, but he was attractive.

"You're that lonely girl."

"You're that lonely guy," I stated and sat down without asking.

"I never said you could sit down."

"It's a free country. And the seat isn't taken."

"Fine," he said and returned to his book. I ate and then when the bell ringed, I got up and continued with my lessons.

Things were slow for a few days. Nothing really happened at the house, and I was glad for that. But I never knew what to expect. In school, things were normal. Boring classes, boring teachers, morons for students. Same as always. But something was different. I wasn't alone at lunch anymore. I always sat at the same table as the lonely guy, but we never said a word. I didn't expect things to change. But on the third day they did.

"You've been sitting here for three days. You haven't said a word, and you're eating like there's no tomorrow. Why?"

"Why?" I asked, taking my earplugs out of my ears and turned off the music streaming out of them. "You and me are the only people sitting alone. I don't talk because you don't. And I'm eating like there's no tomorrow because I'm hungry."

"They don't feed you at home, or what?"

_No._ "I'm just hungry."

"If you're going to sit here, we might as well talk."

"I like silence."

Silence was like music to my ears. Not hearing people talking, screaming and yelling, was something I wanted. A lot.

"You're not deaf. What are you listening to?"

I sighed and answered him.

"Muse," I answered simply. I didn't really expect him to even have heard of them.

"They're okay. Not good, but okay."

"They're great," I corrected him.

"Ever seen them live?"

"No."

"Then you can't know if they're great."

"I think I have the right to my own opinion, don't you think?" I answered, annoyed and tired.

Things continued like that. He would ask a question, I would answer. I tried to stick to the truth, but sometimes I pulled a small lie. He hadn't asked about my family yet, but I knew it would come. And I honestly didn't want to lie anymore. I was tired of it. I wanted someone to talk to, and this guy was the only one available. And to be honest, he was quite easy to talk to.

We only talked at lunch because it was the only time of the day I saw him, and even though we had been talking for almost three days, I still didn't know his name.

"I see you walking to school every morning, so I'm guessing you live close?"

That was the first question. So would I pull a lie, or would I say the truth? This was a truth that actually couldn't come back to bite my ass.

"It takes an hour to walk."

"So you _walk? _An hour away isn't even linked to this school."

"We moved, and they forgot to transfer me."

"Forgot? How can someone forget to sign a piece of paper?"

"Just drop it, okay?"

"Got any siblings?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know, what are you, drugged?"

"I don't know why I'm going to tell you this, but I might as well. I was abandoned when I was born. Someone found me, brought me to a hospital and I was supposed to be adopted. But I have a heart failure. It's not dangerous – right now. But if nothing is done, I probably won't make it 'til I'm thirty. So I wasn't adopted, and I ended up in five different foster families before I moved to where I stay now. I don't consider it a home, and I don't have a family. In a year I'll be eighteen, and then I'm getting as far away from here as possible."

Instead of the look I was suspecting, his eyes glanced into mine.

"My parents died when I was twelve. I live with my aunt, and her husband. Their daughter is at college, and as soon as I leave this school, my tuition is paid. They're rich, and from the outside everything is perfect. But I remember my parents. I remember the dog I had. My old friends. They're not here anymore, and even though my home is nice, it's not what I would choose if I had the option."

Hm, who knew? Maybe we had some things in common.

"How did they die?" The question was out before I had the chance to stop myself. "Sorry, it's not my right to ask. I should go."

And with that I got up from the table, and I was about to go when he stopped me.

"We haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Priestly."

"Tish," I felt myself smiling and then I left.

Things only got worse from that.

It was a Friday, so I wouldn't have a reason to leave the house for days. Which meant I would have to hide as good as possible in my room. Which really isn't a room. It's a bed, and nothing else.

But when I walked through the door, I noticed that I wouldn't be able to hide. He was awake, and drunk. More drunk than normally this time of the day.

"Where have you been?" He slurred, and I avoided eye-contact.

"School," I said in a rush, and tried to get up the stairs as soon as possible. But I felt his sweaty, big hand grab a hold of my wrist and He pulled me down the steps I had already taken. I landed on the floor, and I tried to think of something other than what I knew would happen. But I didn't have the time to think of something before I felt the first hit. And then they kept coming. I got a few kicks as well, and when he was done I could barely stand.

"Get up!"

I tried and managed after a moment, and then I tried to get up the stairs. It hurt like hell, and I guessed for a broken rib. It wasn't the first time.

I lay down on the uncomfortable bed, and I tried to relax. My ribs hurt, as well as my right leg and my stomach.

He wasn't actually stupid enough to hit me in my face – he knew he would get caught then. So he hit me everywhere else, and it happened almost every day. If I was lucky, he was already passed out when I got back from school. But that was rarely.

That night, I heard footsteps outside my door, and yet again I knew what would happen. This was a part of my life, and it had happened so many times I couldn't even count them. I was so used to it, I was numb. I couldn't feel a thing. I wasn't terrified, like the first time. Or disgusted. Or angry. Or sad. Or repulsed. I felt nothing. And I knew I should feel _something. _

I pretended to be asleep when I felt the bed move, and then I felt His heavy breath in my ear. It was thick of alcohol and cigarettes, and it smelled awful.

Big hands turned me to my back, and in the dark I couldn't see much more than his silhouette. But that was more than enough.

A hand grabbed my breast, kneading it so hard it hurt. After a moment, the hand moved south and I heard a zipper open. As I felt his hand touching me, I knew he was touching himself. At least this time he didn't force me to do it. That was usually the routine. He touched me, I touched him.

I tried to shut out the sound of his deep breathings, but I failed and a few seconds later I heard him curse as he groaned.

He was finally done, and with a big sigh he got up from the bed and then I heard the door close.

It wasn't like his wife didn't know about the abusing. He did the same to her. And the only reason I didn't go to the police was because I was terrified of him. He had threatened to kill me if I said anything, and I didn't doubt that he would. He almost killed his wife once, so I knew he could easily do the same to me. He was married to her, and I was simply a seventeen year old girl who lived under his roof. Someone he could easily take advantage of.

When I was sure that he was gone, I curled up into a ball and cried myself to sleep.

* * *

When I came back to school that Monday, my body was full of bruises and my ribs still hurt whenever I moved. Or even breathed. It was definitely broken.

I tried to sit through the day without making any movements, and when I walked to lunch I glanced at Priestly. He was sitting at his regular table, and instead of walking there I took another table today. I just felt like not talking today.

I never actually thought that he would come over, but five minutes later I saw him walking toward my table in the corner of my eyes. He sat down without saying a word, and didn't speak for a moment. Like he waited for me to say something.

When I didn't, apparently he felt the need to.

"What's with the sitting alone? I thought you said last week you hated it."

Yeah, I had said that. Sitting with Priestly and talking to him during lunch was the only highlights of the day.

"I just don't feel like talking today," I answered simply and he shrugged but opened his book. I returned to my music.

Even though I did say I didn't feel like talking, we were by the end of the hour.

It was strange. We had known each other for exactly a week, but we still talked about almost everything. I kept out the part of being abused in my house, but that's it. And we had some things in common. More than I thought. We like the same kind of music, the same kind of movies. He loved to write. I love to draw. His dream was to get out of Brooklyn. My dream is to get as far away from Brooklyn as possible. He wants to move back to LA where he lived as a kid. I had always wanted to see LA. He loved animals. I do too.

Today I didn't walk alone to my locker after lunch because Priestly walked with me, and I enjoyed the company.

"Are you okay?" he asked when he saw me wince as I raised my arm to open my locker.

He raised his hand and I immidiatly cringed away from it, causing him to drop it back to his side.

He looked at me with those green eyes, and I felt the need to explain.

"I don't like being touched."

It was as simple as that. I hated being touched. I knew why, but I wouldn't explain it. I wasn't ready for that yet.

Instead of the look I sort of expected to get, he just met my eyes and nodded.

"Okay," he said and I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. He wouldn't ask me about.

"I gotta go. I have math," I said, grabbed the right books and then left with a soft smile on my lips.

It felt good to smile. It felt natural. I hadn't smiled in years. And it felt right to smile because of Priestly.

As I sat in math, I couldn't concentrate on it. But it really didn't matter. I only have to see or hear something once, and I'll remember it. Some people calls it a photographic memory. Some people would kill to have it. I would kill not to have it. Because having it meant that I would always remember everything that had happened to me. At that was just bad stuff.

So yeah, I really didn't have to concentrate in any class. And math wasn't an exception.

I usually did pay attention though, because it would bring my thoughts to safe places, but today all I could think about was Prieslty.

I had known him for a week, but I already liked him. More than I wanted to. I might be falling for him, and that would be ridiculous. And bad. I can't fall for him. He's leaving for college in three months, and by then I will just be a small part of his past. I will be the girl he talked to during lunch. In fifty years, he won't even remember me. But I will always remember him. Remember how I actually felt sort of safe with him. I had never felt safe before. And I had also never been in love. Or even liked someone. I had never given people a chance, always seeing the worst in them because of my life. But I saw something good in Priestly. He makes me smile. And I like him, even though I know I shouldn't. I can't expect him to save me. He's not going to be my savior. Or my knight in shining armor. Or anything.

And that made me a lot more sad than it should.


	2. Chapter 2

Taking a seat on the park bench, Priestly split the huge muffin in two and gave me the other half before he took a gulp of his coffee.

"I'll pay you back," I said, knowing it would take a long time before I could.

"Don't think about it," he answered as I fiddled a piece of the muffins off and placed it in my mouth.

Priestly and I had known each other for a month now. He still didn't know anything of the abusing, and I was scared that he would run off if I told him. If he somehow found out.

I liked his company. I felt safe. And I was still falling for him. It wasn't love yet, but I could feel that it was on its way. I kept waiting for that little thing he would do that would make me fall in love with him. I dreaded that moment.

Because if I fell in love with him, I would _love_ him. I had never loved someone. And I knew that he would leave for college in only two months. There was no way that he even _liked_ me back.

I was surprised that he seemed to want to spend time with me.

We still talked every lunch, and it felt like I knew him. All of him. He had never had a serious girlfriend, he didn't have many friends here in Brooklyn. His aunt was a broker, which is why they had so much money. I had walked past their house, and it wasn't huge. But it was cute. Even from the outside it looked welcoming. It was the sort of house I had always wanted.

I know how his parents died. Drunk driver. He was twelve, and Priestly was born after that. He refused to tell me his real name, which made me think that it was worse than it probably was.

Before the accident he had been a normal kid, according to him. He played sports, had a lot of friends...

To me he was normal just the way he was. The person sitting next to me was who he was now, and the person that I liked. I doubted that he had been a better person before his parents died. Because he was so good now.

Yeah, it felt like I knew all of him. But at the same time he knew so little of me. I lied to him, and I hated it. Every time he asked if I was okay, and I said that I was... Lie. A big one.

This month had not been fun. My ribs still wasn't okay, and I gained more bruises every week. Almost every day. It was getting harder to hide them. Especially since it was summer. Everyone walked around in t-shirts and shorts while I had long sleeves and jeans.

I hated lying to him, and in certain moment I really wanted to tell him everything. I had wanted to talk about everything to someone for so long, and here he was...The only person actually seeming to listen to me.

"Isn't it scary?" he suddenly asked and I looked at him.

"What?"

"Living with a heart failure," he explained and I looked at the muffin in my hands.

"I guess," I answered after a short moment.

"It scares me that you probably won't be thirty," he whispered back, looking out over the playground we were sitting at.

I had sneaked out of the house long before someone would wake up. The sun was rising when I met Priestly, and here we were eating breakfast on a Saturday. I didn't care that I would probably be beaten when I got back to the house. Any other day, it would have scared me. But I would gladly risk it for Priestly any day.

"It feels like I've known you for years," he added.

"You don't know me," I answered before I could take the words back. Hoping he wouldn't think about it, I continued. "I mean... There's a lot you don't know. Like how I've come to terms with my heart failure. Like how I've accepted that if I don't get that surgery, I'm going to die young. Painfully."

"How can you just accept something like that?" he asked, his eyes staring into mine. Even though I wanted to, I couldn't tear my eyes from his. "You shouldn't have to."

"Maybe I shouldn't, but I have. And some days, I wish for it to happen."

I mentally kicked myself for saying that. Why is he so easy to talk to? Why do I feel like I can tell him everything? Why does his eyes have to be so piercing and convincing?

"You really wish for that?" he asked, not really believing me.

"Sometimes. Not as much anymore. Almost never since I met you."

I said too much again. Way too much. I actually told him I liked him. God, why do I always have to screw things up so much?

Never breaking the gaze, he looked at me. We were both sitting completely still, and his eyes turned harder with determination. And then he leaned down toward me.

"Priestly, don't," I stopped him and I felt his warm breath against me before he straightened up again.

"Fuck," I heard him curse under his breath. "I took that the wrong way, didn't I?"

I shook my head, looking at the playground as I let out a sigh. I wanted that kiss. But I was scared. So scared.

But why did he want to kiss me? Did that mean that he actually liked me back? Was that it? Or was it something entirely different?

"Then why can't I kiss you?" he asked, and I felt his eyes on me. I kept looking at the playground.

When I didn't answer, he made his own guess.

"Right, you don't like being touched..."

"That, too," I answered. It wasn't the main reason, even though it was one of them.

"Then what?"

"I... I've never been kissed," I said slowly. It was the truth, but it still wasn't the main reason. The truth was that I was scared as hell. If we kissed, I would fall for him. And if he found out what happened to me in the house, he would run. And even though he never found out, he would run anyway. To college.

He would leave me, no matter what.

I knew that.

But he didn't know that's what I felt.

"So you don't want me to kiss you because you've never been kissed? Is that it? Or is it that you don't want your first kiss to be me?"

"Like I said, you don't know me," I said softly, ignoring his question. How could he believe that I didn't want my first real kiss to be him? After I pretty much confessed my love for him?

"Then tell me about you. _Make sure _that I know you," he answered me and I closed my eyes. He wanted me to tell him everything. And I couldn't say no to him. And if I would tell him everything, wasn't it better to do it before I fell for him completely? It would be somewhat easier to forget him then, wouldn't it?

At least that was what I tried to convince myself.

"You know I've lived in five different foster families," I said and saw him nod. "Some have been okay, some have been pure hell."

"Why?" he asked softly.

"Different reasons," I answered with my eyes still closed. I had no plans on opening them until this was over. "In my last place, I wasn't the only kid. There was almost eight others, and the adults would forget about me. I was the oldest, so I took care of myself. It's not just that they forgot about me, but they didn't care either. They didn't care if I was gone for days. They didn't even notice."

"It could be worse," he offered, trying to make me feel a little better. Instead a tear rolled down my eye and I wiped it away quickly.

"Do you remember the day I told you I don't like being touched?" I asked and opened my eyes slowly to look at him.

I could almost see realization hit his eyes a few seconds later. They got hard for a second before they softened. He knew now.

Taking a deep breath, knowing it didn't really care anymore, I grabbed the sleeve of my shirt and pulled it up. Underneath the new bruises showed, along with a purple hand mark.

I didn't dare look at him, but I saw how his hand moved from his side. He was about to touch my arm before he remembered I wouldn't like it. So he pulled it back, and told me to look at him.

With another tear rolling down my cheek, I did as he said and met his eyes. He looked so sad. So caring. So gentle. I had expected pity, but I couldn't find it. He just looked honestly concerned.

And that hit me like a brick. That little thing, that feeling I saw in his eyes... It meant so much to me, and it was enough. Much more than enough.

My heart swelled, and it beat hard against my chest.

I was in love with him. And I knew I would never be able to take it back. I would always love him. Always remember the look on his face. The way he made me feel.

And so I started crying against my will, and I hated myself for showing myself weak. Especially in front of Priestly.

"Don't... Don't cry, okay? Please don't..."

"I'm sorry," I apologized, pulling my sleeve down again and wiping my tears away. It didn't help – they kept coming.

I could see that he wanted to reach out to touch me, but I could also see fear. He knew now why I didn't like being touched. So now he was scared of doing it.

He was quiet for a short moment before he swallowed.

"Does it hurt?"

I nodded slowly and looked away from his piercing eyes. "But I'm used to it."

"How long?"

"Two years. The first six months was quiet, but then it just happened. There was nothing I could do about it."

"You could have gone to the police."

"No," I said. "And neither can you. Promise me."

He obviously didn't like it, but he agreed after a short staring contest.

"Fine."

"Good."

"Shit," he said suddenly. He looked furious. "Have he...? I mean, has he ever..." he seemed to have a hard time saying it. "Touched you?"

I bit my lip as another tear rolled down my cheek, and he understood. That didn't help with the fury. He looked like he wanted to hit something. Or rather someone.

"It's not like that," I explained. "He's never... raped me."

"He's _touched_ you. And if you didn't want it, I consider it rape. And so would a judge."

"You promised you wouldn't say anything."

"Why are you so against me saying something?"

"Because he threatened to kill me if I ever tell anyone! You equals as anyone. If he ever finds out, I don't have to worry about my heart anymore. Trust me."

Crossing his arms, he looked out on the few people that he showed up to the playground. He still hadn't finished his coffee, but I doubted that he would.

After almost ten minutes of saying nothing, I broke the silence.

"I shouldn't have told you. You don't need my burden."

Looking at me, he didn't answer. Instead he pulled his hand out, and held it between us. Palm up.

He was the only one who had ever given me a choice. That showed what kind of person he is.

So taking a deep breath, I slowly slid my hand into his. And found that I liked his touch. It was warm, and safe. So I squeezed his hand and held it for a long time.

He invited me home, and I honestly thought about it. But it was best to get back to the house. I had already been away the entire day.

Climbing up the back of the house, I hoped that no one would realize that I came home. And thankfully, no one seemed to.

* * *

I sneaked out early the next day as well, walking to Priestly's house. We had agreed that we would met at seven, so I was outside his front door at seven. And he was opening it.

I was scared again today. He had a whole night to think of everything I had told him, and what if he had changed his mind?

But when I saw his tired smile, I knew that he hadn't.

"Hi," he said as he opened the door so that I could walk inside.

"Hey," I answered with a smile of my own. He reached his hand out, and today I took it without hesitating. I saw him smile as I did so, causing me to smile as well. Leading me up the stairs, I looked at the inside of the house in awe. It was so... open. And amazingly decorated. It was beautiful.

"The house is beautiful," I said as we reached the top of the stairs. I heard a soft laugh from Priestly who rolled his eyes.

"My aunt loves decorating," he explained and I nodded. He stopped us outside a closed door, and a second later he opened it. I guessed that it was his room, and as soon as I took a step into it I felt like home. I had never felt that feeling before. I had never had a home. And here I was, standing in a room that made me feel that. And it felt so good.

Unlike the rest of the house, or what I had seen of it, the walls wasn't painted. The wall was made of bricks, and I liked it. It was different. This room was open, too. The bed was standing against the wall in the middle of the room, a window on it's right side. The headboard wasn't really a headboard, it was more of a storage area.

Two guitars were hanging on the wall above the bed, one black and one red. There was music pretty much everywhere. He didn't have much CD's since it was mostly vinyls. The floor was wooden, and there was a laptop lying on the bed. Looking closer, I realized that the storage area wasn't the headboard. It was more of an add-on. The headboard was the same color as the bed and the storage area, which is why I didn't see it at first. Underneath the quilt, spread on top of the bed, I could see some wheels and realized that they belonged to the bed. The pillows were matching the quilt, and a feeling told me that Priestly hadn't picked _that_ out. But the room did feel like _his. _

There was low music on, and Priestly was about to turn it of but I told him to leave it on. I liked it.

"Why do you look so nervous?" he asked. I was still standing in the opening to his room. He took my hand and pulled me in, and I sat down in a chair standing in one of his corners. The chair was brown with the rest of the room, and the cushions felt like heaven. That single corner chair was more comfortable than my bed.

"I'm still waiting for your answer," he said jokingly, and I smiled softly.

"Because I told you a lot yesterday, and you're going to leave me."

"I won't leave you." He was serious now, almost arguing with me.

"But you will. You have college in two months."

"High school ends in two months," he corrected me. "I'm not going right away."

"But you are going."

He didn't have anything to say to that, so he shifted his weight and looked at me for a few seconds. Trying to figure out what to say.

"Do you want some breakfast?" he finally said and I nodded. I would love some.

I was about to get up from the chair, when he told me to sit tight. So I stayed while he walked out of the room, and I heard his soft steps in the stairs.

I hadn't slept much last night, and sitting in such a comfortable chair didn't make me more awake. I could feel myself relaxing more and more, so I got up so that I wouldn't fall asleep.

Walking around in his room, I looked at his music. There was so much! Walking past that, I reached his bed and I couldn't help but to look at the picture frames standing in the storage area.

One picture stood out. It was a wedding picture. In black and white, a couple was kissing.

I turned around quickly when I heard footsteps, and saw Priestly in the door. Holding a tray of food, he closed the door behind him. He had seen me looking at the picture though.

"Your parents?" I asked and moved toward him. He placed the tray on the bed as he moved the laptop.

"Yeah," he answered and motioned toward the bed. Sitting down indian style, I did the same opposite to him.

"She was beautiful. Your Mom, I mean."

"It's a bad picture, but it's the only one I have of them."

"It's beautiful," I told him honestly. They looked happy.

He didn't answer me and I turned my eyes from him to the tray. I chuckled low when I saw it.

"It's a lot," I said and saw him roll his eyes.

"I didn't know what you wanted. And I figured you'd be hungry."

I had told him yesterday that I didn't exactly get any food at the house.

"Thank you."

"Just eat," he answered me and I smiled before I took one of the french toasts.

I could see that he held back, letting me eat what I wanted. And for the first time in a really long time, I ate until I was full. Until I couldn't eat anymore.

"You look tired," he said as I had finished and I nodded.

"I didn't sleep much last night."

"Why?" he asked, and I laughed. "What?"

"No, nothing. It's just... I can actually tell you this."

I don't know why I found it funny. But if I haven't told him everything yesterday, then I wouldn't be able to tell him now why I didn't sleep much.

"Tell me what?" he asked, smiling since I was laughing.

"I didn't sleep much because, well, you can't really call my bed a bed. _This_ is a bed," I said, indicating on his bed. "Your chair is more comfortable than the bed I'm sleeping in every night. And then I didn't sleep much because my ribs are still pretty much killing me."

He looked at me sadly. "You should go to a doctor."

"They can't do much about ribs. And I can't afford it."

"Can I ask how it happened?"

I pulled my legs up, wrapping my arms around them.

"You don't have to tell me," he added when I didn't answer right away.

"I got back from school, and he was drunk. I tried to avoid him, but I knew it was too late. I was walking up the stairs, and he took my wrist to pull me down. I fell down the stairs, and he kicked me. More than a few times."

I could see the same anger I saw yesterday, but he quickly composed himself and bit his lower lip. He looked like he didn't know what to do.

We were both quiet for a moment before I reached out to take his hand, and he twisted our fingers together.

"It's okay," I whispered and he shook his head.

"How can you think that something like that is okay?" he asked, his voice flat.

"I guess I'm just used to it."

"You shouldn't have to be," he argued and I met his eyes. They were staring into mine, and I couldn't tear them apart. I couldn't stop looking into his eyes.

"I still have this weird feeling that's telling me that you'll run as soon as your mind tells you that you shouldn't be here."

"Screw my mind – my heart wants to be here. With you."

His eyes didn't leave mine, and I saw that determination in them again that I did yesterday before he tried to kiss me.

But after a long moment of looking into each others eyes, he still hadn't made a move. And I wanted to feel his lips against mine. I wanted to know how it felt like.

"That almost kiss from yesterday..."

"What about it?" he murmured.

"You could try it again if you wanted to..."

Oh god, what was I saying? That was so lame? Why didn't I just have the courage to kiss him myself? I mean, I wanted to. I liked touching him. I liked his hand in mine. And I wanted his lips against mine.

I saw his face lean down against mine, and as he closed his eyes so did I. I felt his hand on the side of my face, his breath just an inch away from my mouth. He leaned in closer, and our lips were almost touching. There was a small hesitation, almost like he was waiting for me to lean out. But I wouldn't. Not this time. That second before his lips met mine was the longest in my life. Not because he hesitation, but because this would be my first kiss. Our first kiss.

I had already fallen in love with him yesterday, but when those soft lips touched mine, I fell for him all over again. And the love was a lot stronger this time. I would _always_ love him.


	3. Chapter 3

Priestly's lips moved slowly against mine, and even though I had no idea of how to do this right, I kissed him back. I followed the instincts I had, telling me to move my lips with his. And so I did.

His fingers were still twisted with mine, but his other hand moved from my face to my right thigh. I could feel how much he wanted to continue, but his lips moved one last time with mine before they broke apart and he leaned away.

I felt my lips curve into a smile as I opened my eyes and found his green ones staring into mine.

"Are you sure you've never done that before?" he asked in a murmured voice and I chuckled against my will.

But I liked it. How easily he made me laugh. And smile. And how easy it was to talk to him. I had only had that with one other person before, but I hadn't seen her in almost three months.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I stated and heard a low chuckle coming from him.

"I would have never guessed."

"I'm a good actress," I murmured and his smile faded. He understood my hidden words. I continued before he could say anything. "So what does all of this mean?"

"You mean this?" he asked and leaned in again, his lips touching mine gently.

"Mhm, yeah, that," I mumbled when he leaned out a few seconds later and he laughed when I tried to capture his lips with mine again. He let me for a second, but then our lips lost contact again.

Still holding my hand, he was quiet for a moment. His eyes droped down to our hands while he was thinking.

"I like you," he finally said. "I like you a lot. And... and I want to be there for you. Protect you. I know it's strange...-"

"No, it's not," I cut him off before he could say anything else. "I like you too. And you're the only person who's ever made me feel safe. If I wouldn't feel safe with you, then I wouldn't be holding your hand right now. I wouldn't let you touch me. And I sure as hell wouldn't want to kiss you."

"So we like each other," he stated and I nodded as he looked at me again. "So should we do this? Be together?"

"I want to try," I said softly. It was scary to talk about this. Intimidating. It freaked me out. I had never had this talk before. I had never talked about my feelings before.

"So do I," I heard him say.

"But..." I started and I heard him sigh.

"Of course there's a "but"," he said and looked away again.

"Priestly, look at me," I said and grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me. "That's not what I'm saying. I just... You have to be patient with me. Kissing? Yes. I like that. But the rest? I don't know how that would make me feel because of what I've been through." I left out the fact that it happens almost every night.

"That's it?" he asked and I nodded. "Good. I can be patient."

"Good," I echoed him and he smiled before his lips slowly captured mine again.

* * *

Two hours later, we were still kissing. Making out, actually. And it was good. But annoying, as well. And I was getting angry.

Not at Priestly, how could I be angry at him? He was doing everything right.

No, I was angry at myself. Because I felt uncomfortable at times, and I didn't like it. I wanted to be normal, and like this. Love it even. And I did. But I was still uncomfortable.

And I knew why. Of course I knew why. But all I had always wanted was to be normal, and even more now.

Even the simple thing as Priestly tracing his hand over my thigh made me feel uncomfortable, and I had to break the kiss to tell him. He told me it was okay, but he shouldn't have to think that. I knew he deserved someone better than me, someone who actually liked him touching her. Someone who was comfortable with that.

"Hey," he broke our current kiss. "I can feel that you're not comfortable."

"I want to be," I told him honestly. After only two hours, he had learned to feel when I wasn't comfortable. That was impressive. But at the same time, I could feel that he wanted to take things a lot further, but he stopped himself from doing so. In respect of me. That was... that made me love him even more. I didn't deserve him. He was too good to me.

"I know. But maybe we should take it easy. Maybe watch a movie."

"Yeah," I nodded. "What do you have?"

"Pretty much everything," he laughed. "What do you want to see?"

We ended up picking out a comedy, and we sqeeuzed into the chair he had. It was actually big enough for both of us, and I liked the way his arms felt around me. I liked the way I could hear his beating heart when my head rested against his chest.

Halfway through the movie though, we were making out again and I have no clue of how the movie ended.

"I wanna try something," he broke the kiss suddenly to say and I opened my eyes to look at him. He looked serious.

"What?"

"I have an idea. I know I promised to be patient, but this means that you have to be patient too."

"What is it?" I asked and sat up. He sat up with me.

"Would it be okay to straddle me?" he asked and I felt myself frowning. I didn't know. After a moment of thinking, I slowly moved and straddled him.

"Are you one hundred percent comfortable right now?"

"No," I shook my head slowly. "Maybe ninety percent."

"Yeah, well I need you fully comfortable. Come here." Taking my hand, he moved us from the chair to the bed again. He sat down indian style and told me to place each one of my legs on his side. Doing as he said, he made sure we had several inches between us.

"Now? Are you comfortable?" When I nodded he continued. "Good. But you have to tell me as soon as you're not okay? And I'll stop."

"What are you going to do?"

"I read about this technique somewhere, and it's often used on patients with PTSD."

"I don't have PTSD," I argued with him and he was quick with a response.

"I know. But many people with PTSD don't like being touched for several reasons, and so I figured this might work on you. But like I said, we both have to be patient. It might not even work."

I looked at him to see if he really believed in what he was saying, and it seemed like it. So I gave in and told him to do whatever he was planning. He told me again to say something as soon as I wasn't comfortable anymore and I nodded.

His eyes were piercing into mine all the time, and they never broke the gaze as I felt his hands touch my feet. They moved slowly up all the way over my ankles to my calves and thighs, and as soon as he reached my upper thighs I told him to stop and he did.

"Okay, so your limit is your upper thighs," he said, more to himself than to me. I saw anger flash in his eyes then, and knew that he understood why my limit was my upper thighs. I had never told him what had been done to me, and not where. But I knew that he understood, and he didn't like it.

We were both quiet until the anger disappeared from his eyes, and his jaw relaxed.

"You okay?" I asked and he ignored my question.

"That's one limit," he said instead. "Let's see where your other limit is. Are you uncomfortable now?"

"No, I'm fine," I told him. He nodded as he took my hands, and slowly and gently ran his hands over my arms, up to my shoulder and then down. I didn't have to tell him this time. It was too obvious. As soon as he was a few inches away from my chest, a tear rolled down my eyes and his hands immediately moved up to cup my face, trying to calm me down.

"Tish, I'm sorry," he said. "Fuck. I never meant for this. Okay? We won't continue with this. There's gotta be another way. Just... stop crying."

"Patient, huh?" I asked, drying the tears falling down.

"I'm sorry," he said again, his green eyes looking so apologizing it was insane. I had never met someone as good as him before. As sincere as him before. "We'll stop. I won't try this again."

"Don't stop. Stopping is not being patient," I argued. "Just... try again, okay?"

"You need to be one hundred percent relaxed for this," he told me. "And you are not relaxed right now. If we're going to do this, we'll have to do it another time."

I felt myself nodding, and he smiled sadly.

"It's strange," I told him.

"What is?"

"I actually felt more comfortable while you were kissing me."

Priestly looked at me, thinking about it.

"Okay, this is good. Next time, I'll kiss you, okay? And we'll see how it works out."

"You never told me about the technique," I told him and he chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess I never did. Well, now we know your limits. And so now we gotta work on getting inside them. Slowly. It can take months, but it usually works."

"So how do we work on getting inside them?"

"I don't know," he said with a sigh.

"Hole in the big plan, right?" I smile and he smiled back.

"Yeah. But I have an idea. But if a psychologist tried my way, they would get fired."

"So what is your idea?" I asked, leaning closer to him.

"Well," he said, our lips almost touching by now. "You need to be relaxed, and we'll start above clothes."

"Mhm, and then?"

"When you're comfortable with that we'll remove a layer of clothing, and try aga-"

I cut him off when our lips met, and he kissed me back as his hand pulled my face closer to him. He steered the kiss to be a little deeper as he sucked on my lower lip, and I deepened it even more when I parted his lips with my tongue and darted it into his mouth. Our tongues were busy with dancing around with each other when the door to his room suddenly opened, and we broke the kiss when we heard a voice.

"Priestly, there's... Oh god, I'm so sorry," a woman said and then I heard the door close again as my eyes flew open to look at Priestly. Thankfully my back was against the door, so I couldn't see anything.

"There's lunch downstairs if you want any, and now I will leave," we heard from the other side of the door, and Priestly pressed his lips together not to laugh.

"Your aunt?" I guessed without turning around and Priestly nodded as that laugh fought through. I felt myself blushing. "That was embarrassing."

"You should blush more often. It's adorable," he told me, causing me to turn into a deeper shade of red. And he laughed again.

"Are you hungry?" he asked and I nodded.

"Yeah, but do I really want to see her now?"

"C'mon," he laughed, took my hand and lead me out of his room. It was when we reached the stairs that I realized something and stopped him.

"Have you said anything about me?"

"I told her you would come over today."

"Anything else? Y'know, about _me_?"

He understood and shook his head.

"I told her you live in a foster family, and not to ask any questions if she ever met you." He saw my worry. "Look, she's very understandable. She trusts me, and she'll trust you. She won't ask any questions, I promise."

I looked at him, and knew that he was telling me the truth.

"Okay," I said and he started to walk again. And I stopped us.

"What's her name?"

"Cate," he chuckled. "Now c'mon."

"Cate," I nodded, remembering the name and followed him down the stairs. He didn't let go of my hand as he made a right turn, led me through what looked like a dining room and then when we finally reached the kitchen.

"I'm sorry about that," Cate apologized as soon as we entered the kitchen, and reached her hand out. "Hi, I'm Cate."

Several things came to mind when I saw her. One, she was beautiful. She must have been in her late forties, but she was one of the most naturally beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her golden hair reached her shoulders, and her green eyes were framed by long eyelashes. She was tall, an inch or so taller than me, and she looked happy. But that's not all.

I know she was just his aunt, but Priestly was almost a copy of her. Making me believe that she looked a lot like her sister.

I hesitated a second before I reached my hand out to shake hers. But I decided to do it because even after a second, she reminded me of Priestly. She looked warm and welcoming, and she seemed nice.

"Tish," I said and shook her hand gently. It didn't surprise me that I was actually kinda comfortable with this.

"I'd shake your hand, but..." a man said, standing behind Cate. He held his dirty hands up, and I gave him a small nod. He was clearly doing the cooking, and I remember that Priestly had told me that Cate's husband was a chef. So that must be him.

"Mark," he said as Priestly took my hand again. I said 'hello', and then Priestly showed me to the table where we sat down.

The food was simple, but it looked delicious. And it was as well. Mark was a talented chef, and I told him.

"This?" Cate said. "This is nothing. Trust me."

A round of laughter went around the table, and I was surprised by how easy it was so join in. It felt natural. This whole situation did. And I was comfortable around here. Around this people, and in this house. And I loved that. I had never felt like this before.

"Priestly told me you two met through school?" Cate offered, and I nodded.

"Yeah. Almost every table was taken, so I had to sit down at his." Priestly added how he thought I would give him a lame comment about him, and it struck me how much he loved it here. Yes, he missed his family. But this was his home. This is where he belonged. He loved these two people sitting in front of him.

That made me smile.

We talked through the entire lunch, and then Cate had to go.

"I'm sorry, I have work. But I really hope I'll see you again, Tish."

We stayed in the kitchen for almost an hour after that, just talking. Priestly, Mark and me.

He seemed just as warm and welcoming as Cate. And he was probably as old as He was, but yet Mark was easy to talk to.

What was it with this family? What made them so easy to like? So easy to talk to?

Priestly and I were just about to leave when a small, black dog paced into the kitchen. He actually looked more like a teddy bear though, with all that hair. Getting closer, I could see white spots on three of his paws.

"Here comes the monster," Mark joked and I felt myself smiling when Priestly laughed.

"I thought he would have been here while we ate."

"You know how he is, if he's not around you he's sleeping. Which is during most hours of the day."

Priestly laughed again and then turned to me.

"Feel like taking a walk?"

"Why not?" I agreed, and ten minutes later Priestly had the dog in a leash and we were walking around the block.

Priestly had told me a few weeks ago they had a dog, and he was around four months old. It was a Newfoundland, and his name was Bear. Suitable since he looked like one.

Priestly laughed when I told him.

"I wanted his name to be Barney, but Cate and Mark stepped in. So his full name is Bear Barney Williams."

"That is horrible," I laughed and looked at the dog jumping around on the street next to us.

"I know," Priestly answered with a laugh of his own.

"How long can you stay?" he asked when his laughter had died out, and I felt myself losing my smile.

Of course he had to bring that up. I had been waiting for it.

"I don't know. Until it gets dark, I guess. If He's awake when I get home..." I left out the part that He would probably beat me if he had noticed that I was gone as well. I was lucky yesterday. And I hoped I would be today.

I felt Priestly's hand squeeze mine harder, and he looked away.

"You could stay the night, take Mel's room," he offered and I shook my head.

"I can't take your cousin's room."

"She's at college. And she wouldn't care."

"I still can't stay. If He notices that I'm gone, and trust me He will if I'm not in that bed tonight..." I didn't finish the sentence because I knew he understood. His jaw was tight, and he was still refusing to look at me. He was angry. And I didn't like it.

"You never say his name."

"I don't know it," I lied. I knew His name. But if I told Priestly... He already knew too much, and I knew him enough by now to know that he would probably go to the police. That's just the way he is. He would do anything for the people he cares about.

"Why are you lying?" I felt his eyes on me, and this time I was the one looking away.

We were almost back at his house when I answered him.

"Because if I told you his name, you would go to the police."

"I promised I wouldn't, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did. But I saw how angry you where yesterday when I told you what he's done to me. And you're going to be angry the next time, because there will be a next time. And I'm scared as it is, Priestly. So I don't want to have to worry about you being mad, and telling someone."

By now, we were inside so neither Priestly or I said anything as he leaned down to take the leash off Bear, and then took him in his arms. I followed quietly up the stairs until we were in his room, where Priestly let go of Bear and closed the door.

Priestly didn't say a word as he walked over to sit in the chair in his room. I stood where I was for a second before I walked over to the bed where I sat down on the edge, pulling my feet up to sit indian style.

He was still angry, so I figured that the only thing I could do was to wait it out. I know that nothing I would say would make it better.

A few minutes later Priestly sighed and walked over to me, sitting down next to me and taking my hand.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I won't say anything. I know too much already, right?"

"Right," I answered and leaned against his side. We sat like that for a short moment before we moved up in the bed and lay down. He was on his back, and I had my head against his chest. I liked how steady his heart was beating, and it calmed me down.

Suddenly I heard Priestly chuckle, and I asked why.

"Bear is trying to get up," he answered and I felt myself smiling. "Would it be okay?"

I nodded and got up so that Priestly could lift Bear up, and I smiled when he came to me, trying to squeeze in in the middle of me and Priestly. His paws were over my arm, his head resting on the mattress as he fell asleep.

"I think he might like me," I said jokingly when Priestly leaned himself on his elbow. His face was only inches from mine, his eyes looking at me.

"He likes you," he agreed, his free hand rising to my face. He placed a strand of my hair behind my hair before he leaned closer.

"And so do I," he whispered before our lips met, and I felt myself relaxing even more.


	4. Chapter 4

_Feeling Priestly's arms around me, he broke the kiss but kept his face close. _

"_I'll see you tomorrow in school," he said and I nodded before I pressed my lips against his for a quick second. _

_Then I quickly turned around, and left him standing in the middle of the street. We were just a few blocks away from where I lived, but I didn't want him to know where it was. But it was dark, and he promted on taking me home. This was close enough. _

_So I looked over my shoulder one last time, seeing that he was still standing there looking at me, before I took a right turn and lost sight of him. _

I had been replaying that moment for the last four days now, wishing that I had never left him. I wished I would have stayed with him, right there in his arms for the rest of forever.

I heard the phone Priestly had given me vibrate, and I chuckled through the pain. I can't believe he gave me a phone. It wasn't new or anything, but I had never had one before. So Priestly had given me his old one, and his old number. He was my only contact.

So I knew that text was from him. And I knew what it would say. I already had like twenty texts from, being worried. A few calls I hadn't picked up. Still because he was worried.

And he had the right to be.

I hadn't left this room in four days. I could barely move. I was in too much pain.

Priestly was already worried as it was, and he didn't have to know that I had just been through the longest abuse ever. It must have lasted for an hour, and I was surprised I wasn't dead. Or had internal bleeding's.

He was actually in my room when I climbed up the window. He was drunk. He had noticed that I was gone. And He had beaten me.

And not only that day. He had beaten me every day since. I had cried for four days. And I knew I had to get out of here. But I was in too much pain for that. I could barely move.

My body might be in a bed that was too hard to be called a bed. I might be in a room that was more like a prison than a room. But my whole mind, and my every though was with Priestly.

I wondered what he was doing. Maybe he was playing with Bear. Walking him, maybe. Or talking to Cate and Mark. Listening to music. Writing. Maybe he was thinking of me. I knew he didn't love me. Five days ago, he said he _liked _me. You can't go from liking someone to loving someone in four days. Especially not if you're not even talking to that someone. But I didn't care. I loved him. And I might be seventeen, but I knew that I always would love him. He was a part of me. Of my heart. He had changed me. He made me believe. He gave me some hope.

I heard footsteps in the stairs then, and I quickly hid the phone in my bra. I had nowhere else to put it.

I closed my eyes shut when the door to my room cracked open, hoping that it would work. I knew it wouldn't. But I could always hope.

It didn't help. He was drunker than normal, and I braced myself for the first hit. It never came.

Instead he sat down on the bed, and his hands immediately went to my jeans.

I knew what would happen. I knew exactly what would happen, and I had never been this scared in my life. This couldn't be happening. Just... no.

I don't know why, but I had a strong feeling that He would do a lot more than He usually does. He had already done a lot more beating that normally. What would stop him from taking the sexual abusement any further?

I wished myself away. Far, far away. But I didn't move an inch. I was paralyzed as his sweaty hands unbuckled my jeans.

His breath got deeper, more shallow, and tears rolled down my cheek.

There was nothing I could do, and he would force himself upon me. Knowing that he would rape me made me sick. I had to get out of there. But how? He's heavy. Strong. How would I get out of here? It would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Impossible.

More tears fell down my cheeks as he touched me. And it was like he knew I wouldn't do anything, because he didn't exactly try to hold me down. He knew I was too scared. He knew he had control over me.

But after ten minutes of trying to get it up by touching me, he gave up. For a short second I thought that was it, and that he would leave.

I was wrong.

He grabbed my hand, and forced me to touch it. It wasn't the first time. But it was the first time He failed to get an erection. He was probably too drunk.

So I saw my chance of getting out of there.

I remembered what Priestly had told me five days ago, before I walked away from him. He told me to fight back.

And I knew he was right. I couldn't just lie here and do nothing. I had to fight back. Fight and get out of here.

Without giving it much thinking I took my hand back and kicked him. I don't where, but I hit him somewhere.

Taking my chance, I rolled out of bed and tried to ignore the pain it caused me.

I buckled my jeans as I ran, and I heard him behind me. I was in the stairs when He reached me, though. Grabbing my wrist, it made me trip and I fell down the stairs landing on the floor underneath.

I couldn't move. If I thought I was in pain before, I was wrong. Every bone in my body was hurting. My ribs were probably broken again. On both sides.

"Fuck, Tish," I told myself. "Just get up!"

Hearing His footsteps in the stairs, I pushed myself to get up and somehow I manged. But my leg gave in, and I nearly fell again.

I was only a few meters away from the door, so I managed to get to it and close it in His face before I started to run as fast as I could on one leg. Taking two right turns, I slid down against the wall of an old factory. He wouldn't find me here. I was sure of it. It was a pretty good hiding spot, and I was sitting right next to a container that was hiding me.

I must have sat there for an hour though before I was sure, and I rolled the leg of my jeans up. My left ankle was swollen, and I realized that it must be broken.

"Great," I muttered and tried to stand up but failed. So I tried again. Now when most of the adrenaline I had in me not that long ago was gone, it hurt even more and I had to jump on one foot to be able to move.

I could only think of one place to go, but it was across town. Normally it would take almost an hour to get there. Now? It would probably take three or four hours even.

But I had to go. It's the only place I wanted to be.

Hours later, when I saw the contour of Priestly's house, the sun was almost up again. It was too early for anyone to be awake, and that was pretty much confirmed with how dark the house was.

It would probably be hours until someone woke up. And it probably wouldn't be Priestly.

I didn't want to, but I found the window to his bedroom and looked up at it. The curtains were closed, but I could see the darkness behind them.

Leaning on my right foot, I bent down and took a few small rocks from the ground and then straightened up again.

I weighted the rocks in my hand for a long time before I actually threw one of them at his window. And when I didn't get a reaction, I threw the ones I had in my hand one after the other. I waited and I was just about to get down for more rocks when I saw movements in his room. A few seconds later the window opened, and I saw him look outside. He was tired. Strangely enough, his hair was just as spiky as always. How could sleep in that mohawk? Seriously? I can barely sleep with my hair in a tail.

"Tish?" he asked after a few seconds, and I felt myself crying at the sound of his voice. He was worried.

It was wrong of me to be here. He didn't have to see me like this. But I had nowhere else to go.

I was glad that it was dark outside though, because that meant he couldn't see me. Not my tears. Not my bruises. Not how I could barely stand straight.

"Can I come up?" I asked, my voice breaking. He looked at me for a second before he ducked into his room again. I didn't know what he would do, but I didn't expect a pair of keys to be thrown down a short moment later.

He told me to be quiet, and as soon as he had closed the window again I leaned down to take the keys.

Hopping to the porch, I leaned against the railing as I jumped up the stairs and reached the door. Closing it silently behind me, I locked it again and dragged myself up the stairs.

Closing Priestly's door behind me, I saw him walk out of the bathroom that was connected to his room. Even in the dark, I could see that he was pulling a shirt over his head. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't say a word. And neither did he for a few moments.

But then it all came in a hard voice.

"Mind telling me where the hell you've been for four days? I knew something was wrong when I didn't see you in school Monday, and when you weren't there Tuesday, I tried to call. Did you answer? No! Have you answered any of the texts I've sent? Any of my calls? Do you know how fucking worried I've been! You could have been dead, without me knowing about it. I actually tried finding your house, but I failed since you didn't let me know where you live. Why are you even here?"

I know he didn't mean that last question, but it still hurt me. And he wouldn't have known I was crying if he hadn't heard me sniffle.

"Shit, are you crying?" he asked, his voice immediately softer. Taking a few steps toward me he raised his hand to my face and I winced. Yeah, I had been beaten there too. I had been beaten everywhere. There wasn't a place on my body where I didn't have a bruise.

The room was still too dark for him to see anything, even this close to me. But he knew something was wrong.

Slowly, without saying anything, he moved his hand from my face and a second later the light was on. I refused to close my eyes, even though it was too bright and my eyes wanted to close.

No, I wanted to see those green eyes. I needed to see them.

He had dyed his hair – the third time since I first started talking to him. He had a new piercing as well. He had a ring through his lower lip, right in the middle of it. Wearing a pair of jeans and a plaid black t-shirt, he stared at me. His jaw tight, his eyes hard.

Before he closed his eyes I saw a small tremble of his lower lip, and I knew that he wasn't just angry.

"I...-I didn't know where else to go," I said after a long moment. Actually it was more of a whisper, and my voice broke. Twice.

"What did he do?" he asked, his voice hard and flat again.

"Pries-"

"What did he do!" he asked again, opening his eyes again to almost glare at me. "What did he do to you? And no fucking excuses. You're going to tell me every damn detail."

I knew he was serious. So I told him. Everything from the moment I climbed back into my room, and to a few hours ago. I told him I was scared.

Somehow I managed not to cry during the time I told him, but when I mentioned how I thought He would have raped me if I didn't get out of there Priestly hit his fist into the wall right beside me, and I jumped while the tears started running again.

I saw how he closed his eyes, and tried to compose himself. And after a long moment, he managed. But he was still upset.

He slowly opened his eyes again and swallowed hard before he talked.

"And then you went here?"

I nodded.

"How?"

"I walked."

"You walked," he laughed, the sound disbelieving. Taking a few steps away from me, he paced around the room.

"I could fucking kill someone right now," I heard him mutter under his breath, his jaw tight again. This wasn't helping. And I couldn't stand for much longer.

"Priestly..." I whispered and he turned to me, walking up to me again. He was about to raise his hand to touch me, but realized that it would hurt. So he lowered his hand again, his eyes sad.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and I felt myself smiling. It was so easy to read his mind right then. _God, what a stupid question. _

"I'll be fine," I lied. "I just... it would be nice to sleep."

"You need a hospital," he stated. Yeah, maybe I did.

"I haven't slept in four days. I need sleep."

"You're allowed to sleep for four hours. Because then it's eight o'clock, and I'm taking you to a hospital."

Reaching his hand out, I took it and let him lead me to his bed. He stood beside the bed while I tried my best to find a position that didn't hurt, but that seemed impossible. So I settled for resting on my right side – the side that hurt the least – and Priestly made a move to take a seat in his chair. But I reached my hand out and stopped him, and he turned to look at me.

"I came here for a reason. I missed you. The only thing I've been thinking about for four days is that I shouldn't have left you."

He knew the hidden meaning behind my words, and walked toward the bed again. Putting his knee on the bed, he carefully lay down beside me. He tried to give me as much room as he possibly could but I pulled him closer. All I had wanted now for four days was to be in his arms.

"Is this okay?" he asked and I nodded.

"It's perfect," I said, relaxing next to him. It wasn't a lie. Yes, it hurt. But it was easy to ignore it when being so close to Priestly. With one of his arms around me.

It didn't take long at all for me to fall asleep right there, when I felt safe.

* * *

When I woke up, it was light in the room. I was alone in the bed, and according to the clock on the wall it was almost noon.

I couldn't remember a time when I had slept for this long.

Somehow the pain was worse than yesterday, and I fought the tears that wanted to come out.

"Good, you're awake," I heard Priestly say, his voice low. I looked at him, sitting in the chair, and saw that his eyes were slightly red. And swollen. He had been crying.

Last night, I had noticed that he was close to it. His lips trembling. But he was strong, and I didn't think that he would cry. But he did, and my heart grew bigger.

Before I could say anything he rose from the chair and moved to the door, opening it.

"Just get down when you can."

And with that he left me alone, and I sat up after a few seconds. I lumped over to the door, dragged myself down the stairs and stopped there. Priestly came into the room, followed my Cate and Mark. Seeing how Cate tried to hold back her tears, and how Mark looked like he tried to figure out what to say...

"You told them," I realized.

"Yeah," Priestly answered. "Be pissed off all you want. But I had to. Now come on."

No one said a word in the car to the hospital, Mark driving and Cate sitting in the passenger seat. And once we reached the hospital, we didn't have to wait for long.

Trying to tell the doctors how this happened, I lied.

"I fell."

"Yeah, sure, you fell," Priestly said sarcastically and I stared at him while I felt the doctor's confusion.

"I tripped and fell down a flight of stairs."

"Oh, and by tripped she means that she tried to get away from a man who has been hitting her for almost two years. Oh yeah, and because he tried to rape her last night. That's what she means."

"Priestly, please," Cate said, and looked at me with a apologetic look. "Calm down."

"No. That's what happened, and she won't tell the truth. This is your way of getting out, Tish. And you're lying," he said, swallowed and then left the room we were in.

"Which story should I go by?" the doctor asked, looking at me.

"His," I whispered after a long moment and the doctor nodded.

"I'll fix an x-ray as soon as possible," she said before she went out of the room, and Cate looked at me.

"I'll go get Priestly," Mark stated, left the room and it was just me and Cate for a moment.

She didn't say anything. Didn't ask anything. She was just there. And if felt good.

"I'm scared," I confessed, and she nodded.

"I know. But we're going to fix this, okay? Mark and I talked about. We're paying for this. And that man is going to pay for what he did to you."

"I can't ask for that, Cate. You can't pay for this."

"Sure we can," she smiled. "I love Priestly like he would be my own. And he cares about you. A lot. And that means I care about you. So we're paying for this."

And with that she left me alone. It wasn't for long though, because Priestly came back inside and sat down in the chair next to the bed I was sitting in.

"I told the doctor about these last four days," he said. "I told her everything you've told me. And I told her about your heart."

"Why?" I asked, on the verge of tears again.

"Because I'm scared. And if I'm scared, you must be terrified."

"Priestly, you shouldn't be here."

"What, you mean here? In this room?"

"No," I whispered. "At all. You shouldn't be here... with _me._"

It hurt to say the words, but it was the truth. I had known from the start that I didn't deserve him. It would just be so much better if he left. He could move on. Meet someone new. Fall in love with someone who wasn't as messed up as me.

When he said nothing, I continued.

"You shouldn't be with me. I'm not good for you, I've known that from the start. I mean... You deserve someone who you can actually touch without making her uncomfortable. Someone who loves you touching her. Someone _normal._ I'm not her. I'm messed up. I'm a _freak._"

"You don't think _I'm _messed up? I mean, look at me! Every fucking person who walks by me thinks I'm a _freak. _Why wouldn't they?"

"You're not a freak," I told him and he scoffed.

"But I am. I'm that freak who lost his parents. Ask anyone. Because that's what people are always going to think of me. Unless I change. But this is who I am now – _Priestly. _And I am not going anywhere unless you can look me in my eyes, and tell me to leave and never come back."

I felt a tear roll down my cheeks, and I looked down into my lap.

"I can't say that," I whispered and heard his footsteps before I felt a soft, gentle hand under my chin. Pulling my head up, I looked at him and his soft, sad smile.

"Good," he whispered. "We can be messed up together."

And with that said, he leaned down and I felt his lips against mine.


	5. Chapter 5

"Good and bad news," the doctor said to me, placing the chart on a small table in the small room.

We had been here for almost eight hours now, so it was dark outside. At the moment, neither Priestly, Cate or Mark was here. Mark had to go to work, and Cate had forced Priestly home for dinner. They were supposed to come back first thing tomorrow morning, but I had a small feeling that Priestly might stop by tonight.

"Start with the good ones?" I asked, and Lacey looked at me - that was her name – before she sat down in the chair next to the bed I was on.

I wasn't in pain, because they had given me pain killers. But as soon as they stopped working, it would hurt again.

"Your leg is broken in two places, and you have six broken ribs. There is also a small fracture on your ankle, and we have to operate on you to fix the broken leg. You also have old fractures that matches with the story you told me."

"That's bad news?" I asked. If that was good news, what the hell was the bad news?

"We pulled out some old charts on you, from when you were born. You had a heart failure."

"I know," I said, knowing that this wasn't good. I mean, they did an ECG on me. This could not be good.

"Because you were never treated, the failure has grown bigger. You also have a small hole in your heart, called an Atrial Septal Defect."

"What does that mean exactly?" I asked, confused. I had two heart failures? And what did she mean when she said I have a hole in my heart?

"The hole is very small, and even though you can live with it, we should fix it. But we do _have_ to fix your other heart failure by doing a surgery."

"And if I don't do the surgery?"

"Well," she said slowly. "Without a surgery, you'll barely have a year."

She told me that the success rate was about 50-50 in the surgery's. Those who woke up was always fine. But then there was the fifty percent who never woke up again.

She went through the surgery with me, and then she left me to think. But really, there wasn't much thinking about it.

Yeah, I was scared. But I wanted to live, despite everything that had just happened to me. Because I wanted to be with Priestly, and the only way of being with him was to be alive. If I didn't do the surgery, I would barely have a year with him.

I returned to the white paper in front of me, and picked up the pencil again. I hadn't been drawing in ages, but I had nothing better to do here. I was almost done, though.

And once I was finished, I started a new one. Halfway done with it, I heard the door opening and I looked up.

As Priestly walked in, I quickly turned the two pieces of paper over so that he wouldn't be able to see them. I mean, the one I was working on right now was actually a portrait of him.

"Hey," he said and I felt myself smiling. "Anything new?"

"No," I lied smoothly. "Just that I need surgery on my leg." I figured it was best to lie about my heart. I knew it would freak him out.

He looked at me for a long moment, his face showing me nothing.

"When?" he asked then and I shrugged.

"Tomorrow," I said and he nodded slowly. Looking at him I turned my palm up and he pulled the chair close so that he could sit down. Taking my hand, he squeezed it gently.

"You okay?" he asked, his eyes piercing and hard not to look into.

"I guess," I said. "I'm not in pain anymore."

"That's good," he said in a distant voice.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked and he stood up without answering. Leaning down again, I softly felt his lips against mine and I gladly kissed him back. I would always be more than glad to feel his lips against mine. I hadn't quite grown used to the feeling of his new piercing though, but I knew I would.

As he leaned out a moment later, I heard footsteps and looked up only too see a police officer walking into the room. I figured the doctors had called them.

"Hello," he said. "I'm officer Dawson."

He explained why he was there, and asked if I was willing to give my story. I figured I had nothing to loose. Too many people already knew about everything. I might as well go to the police, even though I was scared.

"So, Tish, what happened last night?"

"Umh," I said. I figured they would need my real name. I wasn't that happy about giving it away with Priestly in the room though. I hated my name. "Actually, it's Platisha."

"Platisha?" I heard Priestly ask in a disbelieving voice, and I hushed him only to hear him chuckle.

I gave the police my report though, and he promised he would stay in touch right before he left.

"Platisha? Really?"

"Shut up," I muttered and let go of Priestly's hand. He had been holding mine the entire time, and it had been comforting.

Grabbing my hand again, Priestly held it steady.

"My real name is Boaz," he said, his tone almost disgusted.

Turning my head to look at him, I saw that he was very serious and I started laughing. Boaz? Really? No wonder he legally changed his name to Priestly when he turned eighteen.

"Shut up," he echoed me, but with a chuckle in his voice instead of the bitter tone my words held.

He stayed for an hour before I told him he should go home and sleep, and he promised he would come by tomorrow before the surgery. Kissing him goodbye, his lips lingered on mine for a long time.

I had been hiding my fear all the time he had been here, but with that kiss I was sure he had sensed it somehow. He knew I was scared. And I wish that he didn't know. It was my burden, and not his.

A nurse checked in a few moments later, and I was almost asleep when I heard a knock on the door and a second later it opened.

I saw a tiny, red head look into the room, and I immediately recognized the red locks, going with the blue eyes and the short body.

"Alex?" I asked, not believing what I was seeing. That couldn't be her, right? She was in juvie, and I hadn't seen her in months.

Closing the door behind her, she walked into the room and I saw a tear roll down her cheek.

"I'm gonna kill that bastard for doing this to you."

Alex. It was really her.

I met her about four years ago in a foster family. A year older than me, she grew into a sister. A close one. But she hated the family, and ran away from the house. She lived on the streets for a long time, and she was a lot tougher than she looked like.

She was in juvie because they had no place else to put her, and she was a minor. They would release her as soon as she turned eighteen though.

I had never officially told her what was going on in the foster home I was in, but she knew. She had been there. She knew how foster homes worked. She had seen the signs.

"How did you find me?" I asked, ignoring her words.

"I have contacts, remember?" she wiggled her eyebrows, the serious expression running off her face and I felt myself smiling.

"Come here," I said and opened my arms, feeling her hugging me back. The hug lasted for a long time, and I didn't want to let go of her. I had missed her a lot more than I had let myself know.

"How are you? When were you released?"

"I'm great, and I was released yesterday."

"I missed your birthday," I realized, and she shook her head to dismiss it.

"Screw that. Now, how are you?"

"Not that great. I have to do a surgery tomorrow, and I'm scared."

"What kind of surgery?" she asked, and I didn't hesitate when I told her.

"For my heart."

We talked for hours after that. She told me about juvie, and I told her about life on the outside. I told her about school. About Priestly.

"Is he good to you? I mean, he's not taking advantage of you? Because if he is, I'm gonna kick his ass all the way to mars."

"He's great," I told her. "He's... He knows everything, and I love him. He doesn't know, but I do. He's patient with me. He knows everything that's been done to me, and somehow he understands. And I... He's the best thing that's ever happened to me. He makes me feel safe, and I don't know what I'd do without him."

"I need to meet him," Alex stated and I laughed in agreement.

-  
When Priestly showed up the next morning, I told him the full story. I told him that I wasn't just doing a surgery to fix my leg. I told him I was also fixing my heart. And that I had a hole in it. And probably only a year to live.

I had already talked to Cate about it. She told me she could pay for it, and I told her I would pay her back some time in some way. She shook it off, and said that I should ignore it.

Now Priestly were looking at me, his eyes hard. He didn't like this. Not one bit.  
"What's the risks?"

"What?" I asked, trying to stall. I was scared.

"The risks," he said again. "There's always risks. And you're doing a surgery on your heart. So what are they?"

"50-50," I whispered.

"Of success?" he asked and I shook my head.

"No. There's a fifty percent chance that I'll never wake up again."  
"There's no way in hell you're doing this surgery," Priestly shook his head. "Just no."

"If I don't do this surgery, I'll be dead in a year."

"Yeah, and if you do it, you can be dead in a few hours. You just... you can't do this."

"Does it matter if I die today, or in a year? If I don't do the surgery, I will walk around scared for the next year. Just dreading for it to happen. And so will you."

"I don't care," he stated. "Because then I can be with you longer."

"I'm doing this," I told him. "I already talked to Cate. And I told the doctors last night. I'm doing this surgery."

"You're not eighteen," he stated. "You're not allowed to say yes to this alone."

"The only ones who can say if I can do this or not is the same people who have been hurting me for years. Do you really want them to make the decision?"

He stared at me, his body stiff and rigid.

I took his silence as a no.

"That's what I thought. I told the doctors yes, and I'm doing it."

"I don't want you to."

"If you can't tell me to go in there, and do that surgery, then lie to me. Because I'm scared. No, I'm fucking terrified. And you're not helping me right now. You're not making me braver. I already decided that I will do this, okay? I will get that surgery whether you like it or not. But if you can't even tell me to go through with the surgery, then lie to me. Make me feel better. Tell me a lie."

He was quiet for a long time before he took a few steps and grabbed my hand as he looked straight into my eyes.

Before he answered me, two nurses came in and ruined the moment. It was too late for him to speak now, and he knew it.

"It's time," one of the nurses said with a smile.

Taking the bed I was in, they rolled me out of the room and Priestly had to let go of my hand. But he held it for as long as he could.

I tried to smile at him, but I failed and his returned smile looked more like a grimace than anything else.

I was sure he wouldn't say a word when he suddenly did. I was already out of the room, and I could barely hear his soft voice from where he stood.

"I don't love you." 


	6. Chapter 6

Waking up, I felt something heavy on me. It was heavy, and big and I wanted it off me. But I couldn't move. I couldn't find my arms, or my eyes, or my lips. I couldn't do anything.

Slowly, as I woke up more and more, I realized something was touching my chin. It was soft, but hard at the same time. And spiky, and smelled like hairspray.

Priestly. He must be the one on top of me. But not really on top of me, either. Just half of me. My right side.

Waking up more, I found my hands and tried to move them. When I managed to move my left hand a little bit, the weight on me suddenly shifted and disappeared.

"Tish?" I heard a voice ask, and recognized it as Priestly's. It was low, and worried. "Tish?"

After a short moment of searching, I found my eyes and slowly opened them. The picture in front of me was blurry at first, but then I saw Priestly. That familiar blue mohawk, the piercings, and those beautiful green eyes. He was sitting up in the bed, his eyes staring at me. He looked relieved. And worried. And like he was about to cry.

"You're awake," he breathed and I tried to find my voice. I failed, but it didn't matter because his lips attacked mine. They were hard, and slow and he kissed me even though I didn't find the energy in me to kiss him back. He didn't mind, and the kiss lasted for a long moment.

"You're awake," he breathed again when our lips lost touch.

"Of course," I whispered, and it felt like I hadn't been talking in days.

"Don't say that," he said and leaned out. I opened my eyes again, and caught him wiping a tear from his cheek away.

"Say what?"

"Those words. _Of course._ I don't want to hear them."

"Why not?" I was confused. I didn't understand that worry, and the relief. I didn't understand his words.

"Because it wasn't obvious that you would wake up. Yeah, the surgery went perfectly. But you've been in a coma for almost three weeks, and the doctors didn't know when you'd wake up. _If_ you'd wake up. So don't say that. Don't."

"I... I've been in a coma?" I asked, not understanding. Why?

He nodded slowly, and it looked like he regretted his words. Like he could have put that some other way.

"What do you remember?" he asked slowly, almost in a whisper. I tried to think back, but was hit my a wall. So I fought it, and the first thing that came to mind was Him. The beating. The pain. Everything he had done to me. Then I remembered going to see Priestly. He told Cate and Mark. We went to the hospital. I remember that the doctor told me they had to operate on me. My leg. My heart.

Looking past Priestly, a saw that my leg was in a cast. I had needles in me. Three, actually. I hate needles. I wanted to take them away.

"Don't," he said when I tried to. "That's morphine, and nutrition. You need both of them."

"I don't like needles," I stated, and heard that my voice was growing stronger by each word I spoke.

"What do you remember?" he asked again, looking like there was something I had to remember. Something important. So I concentrated on Priestly. Trying to remember him.

"I told you about the surgery, and you didn't want me to do it. But I was scared, and I wanted you to make me feel better. You couldn't, so I told you to lie to me."

Suddenly I remembered what he wanted me to remember. I remembered what he told me before I did the surgery.

"You... you told me you didn't love me," I whispered and I fought back the tears that wanted to come out. "Was that really a lie?"

He was quiet for a moment, looking at me. Almost like he was collecting courage.

"It was the biggest lie I've ever told anyone. I love you, Tish. And I don't care if you don't love me back, because I've loved you since the moment you told me everything. I know it took a lot from you to do that, and I realized then that you trusted me. And I wanted you to trust me. And you told me about Him, and I remember thinking that I wanted to kill him for doing that to you. For doing that to the girl I loved. The girl I _love_."

I couldn't hold the tears back even though I wanted to, and Priestly wiped them away.

"No one has ever told me that before," I whispered. "That they love me."

"Yeah, well I do. And I don't want to be quiet about it."

I met his eyes, and saw how serious he was. He loved me. I couldn't believe it. It was too good to be true. How could he love me? How?

"Priestly, I..."

"Look, you don't have to say it back. You don't love me, and I can understand that, okay? I'm a freak, remember?"

"But we're messed up together," I remembered. "And I love you too."

It felt good to finally say it. I had been holding it in for so long, and it was a relief to say the words. I had wanted to say them for so long.

He looked at me for a long time before his face broke into a smile, and I felt myself smiling back.

"Come here," I murmured and smiled again when I felt his lips against mine. This time I kissed him back, and our lips moved slowly together. Lifting one hand I grabbed his t-shirt and pulled him down closer to me. He seemed to be scared to hurt me, but I couldn't feel anything. Everything felt so good in this moment. Everything was perfect. More than that. Priestly loved me, and I loved him back. For the first time in a long time it felt like everything would be alright. Finally.

A nurse came in about thirty minutes later and we had to break the kiss we still hadn't ended.

After she was done evaluating me, I kicked Priestly out and away to school. There wasn't a long time left before he would graduate, and he had exams he couldn't miss. He needed to go to school. I joked and told him I wouldn't go anywhere. He didn't find it funny, but he left after kissing me and telling me he loved me. I told him back, and it felt great.

A doctor came in then, and explained everything. He told me about the surgery, and that it had went great. The tests the nurse just did was great, but I would need the IV for a while longer. And they wouldn't release me for another week or two. They wanted to check up on me.

They let me eat a little bit, but since I hadn't been eating real food for three weeks it wasn't much. They told me to drink though, and I did.

Cate came over after noon.

"It's good to see you awake again," she smiled and I smiled back. "I've barely seen Priestly at home for three weeks. He's been here all the time. Before school, after school. The only time he's been home is to eat and sleep. He really cares about you."

"I care about him too," I told her honestly.

"Mark and I have been talking. After your report to the police, they placed Hugh in custody, but couldn't hold him. You're the only evidence, and witness, and you we're in a coma. But now when you're awake, they can put him back in custody and there will probably be a trial in a few weeks. So Mark and I said that you can stay with us. Priestly wouldn't want it any other way, and we have a free room for you. If you want it."

I was quiet for a moment before I nodded. I couldn't understand her kindness. She didn't know me. Yet they were being so kind to me. This was all very new to me. But I liked it.

We talked a little bit, before I changed the subject.

"Tell me about Boaz?"

"So he finally told you his name, huh?" Cate laughed and I smiled.

"Only after he found out mine."

Cate chuckled and took a seat in the chair standing in the room.

"My sister was four minutes older than me."

"You were twins?" I asked and she nodded.

"Identical twins. Priestly hasn't told you?"

I shook my head and she smiled sadly. I couldn't understand how hard it must be for Priestly. His mother was dead, but yet he saw a copy of her everyday. I wouldn't be able to stand it.

"She was very understanding, and forgiving. She was a good listener. Never jealous. Priestly is so much like her. Anyway, she was older than me, but she never held a grudge against me. I met Mark when I was eighteen, and by then my sister was still single. She was still single when Mark and I got engaged, but at our wedding she met Priestly's Dad. They were perfect for each other. When I got pregnant, only a year after the wedding, they were already engaged and married by the time Mel was born. Mel was two when Boaz was born. My sister had two miscarriages before him, so he meant the world to her. Boaz was... wild, I guess. Nothing serious, but he was a wild boy. And when my sister died... Mark and I knew we had to take him. He had to move away, and see a copy of his mother everyday, so I dyed my hair to somehow look different. I could understand that it was hard on him, though. But he was out of... I felt so helpless. I didn't know what to do. He was worse than ever. He didn't care about school. He hung out with the wrong people. He started drinking when he was thirteen. We grounded him, but it didn't help. He dyed his hair. Gave himself a piercing. I was just glad he didn't get tattoos. But he was close. He wasn't himself for a long time. I didn't recognize him, and he had no idea of who he was himself. He was confused. Scared. And then, one day he just calmed down. It happened so suddenly that Mark and I thought he was on drugs. But no, of course he wasn't. And I feel horrible for even suspecting it. Somewhere along the way, in the mess he was in, he found himself. He found himself in the hair, and the clothes, and he accepted that he would never see his parents again. He accepted that this was his life. He accepted that Mark and I knew that we could never be his parents, and that we didn't want to. He accepted that we were taking care of him, and doing our bests. He accepted who he was, and the life he lived. Since then, he's been Priestly. This wonderful, amazing young man you know."

The story was hurting me. I had no idea he used to be like that. He had told me he had been someone else than who he was now, but he didn't want to talk about it.

"He hasn't told me any of this."

"He's ashamed. He's not proud of who he was. Of what he did. He's still struggling. A part of him will always be struggling. And I can't blame him. I miss my sister everyday."

* * *

"I'm just gonna... stay home, okay?" I mumbled under my breath as I watched myself in the mirror. The cast on my leg was still there, but I would take it off in a few days. I couldn't wait.

I was wearing shorts and a tank top, something I hadn't been wearing in years. And it felt good. All of the bruises were gone, and I couldn't remember a time when I hadn't had them. So that felt great.

My hair had grown out, now reaching down below my chest.

I looked like a normal seventeen year old girl. Besides the three inches long scar in the middle of my chest. I hated it.

Priestly liked it though. Said it meant that I was alive. And I guess he was right. It was a reminder of my old life – a life I would never miss. And a reminder that I had a future to look forward to.

It had been almost two months since the surgery, and today was Priestly's graduation. And a lot had happened in those seven weeks.

I stayed at the hospital for two weeks before I was released, and moved into Mel's room. I felt like a thief in the night. The room was hers, and not mine. So I tried to be there as little as possible. I was with Priestly during the days, when I wasn't in school. But we still always met at lunch. The only time I was in Mel's room was when I was sleeping. I hadn't slept in Priestly's room anything. The cast was in the way, and I still wasn't fully comfortable with the touching.

We worked on it almost every day though, but like he said: it would take some time. And it was frustrating. I _wanted _him to touch me, and I wanted to touch him. But it just didn't work that way. And I really couldn't understand where all of his patience came from.

But he wasn't always that patient. Or happy.

I chickened out, and I couldn't witness in the trail. Priestly didn't like it, and he wasn't quiet about it. But he did understand my point of view, even though he didn't like it.

"You're going," Priestly answered me. He was standing right behind me, his head reaching over mine. I could feel gentle arms wrapping around my waist, and I leaned my back against his chest. "You want to go."

"Yeah, I do," I whispered. Of course I wanted to be there, and see Priestly get his diploma and graduate. I didn't want to miss it for the world.

"So come on," he said, and I shivered when I felt him place a quick kiss on my neck. Then he grabbed the hand I had recently placed on his, and started to move.

"My crutches!"

"I hate those things," he muttered but stopped to get them from the bed. Giving them to me, I easily followed him downstairs where we met up with Cate and Mark. Cate held his dark blue graduation gown in her hands, packed in a dress bag.

And with that we left the house that was now my home, and a moment later we were at the school. Priestly and I got out of the car as Cate and Mark tried their best to find a parking spot.

"How does it feel? This is the last time you'll walk these corridors."

"It's the last time you'll walk them too," Priestly stated with a soft smile.

"You mean hop," I chuckled and he laughed.

But he was right, this was the last time for both of us. He would leave for a college in Santa Cruz in a month, and I had decided to come with him. I had legally transferred to Santa Cruz High School. And it felt good – I couldn't wait to get out of Brooklyn.

As Priestly changed I waited, and pressed my lips together when he was done. He looked so ridiculous in that blue gown. And I was pretty sure he would never be able to get that hat on his head.

"Don't laugh."

"I'm not," I said, and pressed my lips together even harder. "Just promise me to never wear something like that again."

"I can promise that," he answered me and I let out a small chuckle.

"Good. Now lets go get you graduated."


	7. Chapter 7

**Just a small warning, it's a little lemony at the end. Nothing big though.**

* * *

"Cate and I have been meaning to talk to you about something," Mark said as I helped out with setting the table. Priestly was in the shower, and he had told me he was taking me somewhere later tonight.

I lost my cast about two weeks ago, and most of my muscles in my leg were coming back. It had been weird to walk on my leg after having a cast for so long, but it felt better for every day that passed.

"Well, you've lived here for almost two months now," he stated as he poured the salad in a big bowl and placed it on the table. "And we know that you're going with Priestly to Santa Cruz in about two weeks."

"If you have nothing against it, we would like to adopt you," Cate finished and I stopped in my movements where I stood to look at them.

They looked serious, and Cate continued when I didn't say anything.

"We like you, and we like having you in the house. We figured it would be easier for you, having parents on a paper."

"What about Hugh?" I asked slowly. I was still terrified of him. He had no idea where I lived, but I feared him every day. What if I would see him, what would he do then? I didn't doubt that he would hurt me, or even worse.

As I talked, Cate opened a drawer and took out some papers that she placed in front of me on the table.

"Legally, he can't say anything about you," Mark told me and I looked at them.

"Does Priestly know?" I asked and Cate shook her head.

"We wanted to talk to you first.

"It's your decision," Mark said carefully, like he didn't know what my answer would be. Like he couldn't even guess.

I took a deep breath and glanced at the papers. Those papers would set me free from everything. No more Hugh, no more fear. I would be free.

"Where do I sign?"

Cate smiled, and I smiled back as Mark handed me a pen and I quickly signed the two papers. Then it was Mark and Cate's turn.

"That's it?" I asked as Cate placed the papers in an envelope.

"Now we just have to send them in, and wait for the answer. But yeah, that's it."

I gave them both hugs – yes, I was comfortable enough to do that now – and then went up the stairs to tell Priestly that the food was done in a while.

He was standing in his bathroom, working on his hair, when I walked in.

"Dinner is done in fifteen minutes," I said and glanced at his face through the mirror. I saw him looking back.

"What's that big ass smile about?"

"I think maybe Cate and Mark should tell you that."

Dropping the hair straightener, he turned around to look at me.

"Okay, even though you're smiling you're kinda scaring me. What's going on?"

I took the few steps that was needed to reach him, and placed both of my hands on his hips to pull him closer to me.

"You know how I was never adopted when I was a baby?" I asked, but didn't let him say anything. I barely let him think about my question. "That's fixed. I just signed the papers."

A small smile broke out on his lips, but then he stopped himself from smiling completely.

"Cate and Mark are adopting you?"

I nodded and the smile broke out completely. It was hard not to smile back.

"Wait, this doesn't make us... family or something?"

"No," I laughed. "It's just paperwork."

"Good, because then I can still do this," he chuckled and leaned down to place a kiss on my lips. I kissed him back as his hands wrapped around my waist, and held me tight. I sucked on his lower lip as he traced his tongue over my lip, and I let him in. Meeting his tongue with mine, I pressed myself closer to him and my hands found their way in under his t-shirt to run over his back.

In a swift movement, I was suddenly sitting on the counter, pressed against the mirror. My legs were on either side of Priestly, and our kisses were growing deeper and fiercer by the second. His hands ran over my hips to my breasts, and groped them.

Yeah, we had gotten that far and I loved it. But we hadn't gotten that much further. I could handle him being outside my bra, but not under it. It was frustrating, and I still couldn't understand how he could have such patience with me. I didn't have that kind of patience.

As his hands were kneading outside my shirt, he groaned and then broke the kiss with a sigh.

"Don't stop," I murmured as he tried to catch his breath again.

"I have to."

"Why?"

He laughed once and then looked at me.

"Because you're not ready. And because I know my limit."

"So what, a groan is your limit?"

He always stopped after that groan, and it was annoying. Especially since I wanted to continue. I _wanted_ to be ready.

"No, but that groan means that I'm at my limit."

"Why not go over it? Just once, to see what happens?"

"Because then I won't be able to control myself."

"But that's a good thing," I smiled and he shook his head with a low chuckle. It wasn't humorous though.

"Yeah, maybe. But not with you, not since you're not ready. I don't know if I would be able to stop myself if that was needed."

"It won't be needed," I said, knowing it probably wasn't the truth.

"You're not fully comfortable yet, and until then..."

"No sex," I finished and he nodded with a grimace. "Why are you so patient with me?"

He was quiet for a long, long time and when he answered me he wasn't meeting my eyes.

"Because I want you to be ready, and because I might be stalling."

"Why are you stalling?"

Again, it took a moment before he answered me.

"Because I don't know if _I'm _ready."

"Why wouldn't you be ready?" I almost laughed, but then abruptly stopped when he looked at me. "You've never...?"

"Nope," he shook his head and I felt myself smiling. He was just as new to this as I was. I would have never guessed. _Never_. But I loved it. My first time would be with him, and his would be with me. How could I not love that?

Kissing him softly, I told him I loved him.

"I love you too."

* * *

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, Priestly pulling me along where he went.

"You'll see," he answered me with a chuckle. We had been driving for over an hour, and we were outside of Brooklyn.

He pulled me around a corner, and then stopped. I looked around me and quickly saw where he was taking me.

In big letters, the word "MUSE" was written. He was taking me to a concert. A _Muse_ concert.

"I thought you said you hated Muse."

"I said they're okay," he corrected me. "But you love them."

We had to stand in a line for over an hour before we got inside, and well inside there was a band playing before Muse.

But the place was crowded, and even though I had gotten more comfortable I wasn't comfortable with this. Everyone was touching everyone. And I didn't like it.

"You okay?" Priestly asked over the music as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

"I'm fine," I lied. He bought the tickets, and I really wanted to see the band. Me being uncomfortable shouldn't stop that.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" he saw through me but I lied again.

"No, I want to stay."

"No you don't," he screamed in my ear, but it sounded like a whisper because of the music playing so loudly. "C'mon."

He took my hand and started to lead me out of there, and I was thankful. When we got out, it felt like I could breathe again.  
I let go of his hand as soon as we were outside, walked a few steps away from him and took a deep breath. There was a ringing in my ear, but I knew it would stop eventually.

Priestly didn't say a word as he waited for me to collect myself, and when I turned around to face him he reached his hand out for me. Taking it, Priestly pulled me close to him and wrapped one arm around my shoulder. I leaned against his side and held my arm around his torso as we walked toward the car.

As we reached Brooklyn again, Priestly asked if I wanted something to eat and he stopped the car outside a cafe.

"I'm sorry," he said as we walked inside.

"About what?"

"About taking you to that concert. I should have known you weren't ready."

"It's okay," I promised. "We'll go some other time."

"Yeah," he told me but looked kind of distant. Like he was thinking about something.

"Can you order for me? I have to go to the bathroom," I asked and he nodded. "Just order twice of what you're getting."

I pressed a quick kiss against his lips before I found the bathroom, and did what I went in there to do. Washing my hands, I suddenly felt that familiar breath of alcohol. Too scared to really do it, I glanced up in the mirror and saw what I expected.

_Him_. He was just an inch behind me, and we were alone in the restroom. It was a shared restroom, both for men and women. But of course no one else was there. I was alone, with _Him_. And I was too scared to even breathe. I could feel my heart beating fast and hard against my chest as he leaned down so that his mouth was almost touching my ear. His hand reached to grab my wrist, and I knew he would do something.

But I was lucky, and heard the door open. He heard it too, so he released my hand and settled with threatening me in a whispered voice.

"I warned you not to tell anyone. I'll find you again, and I'll kill you."

My eyes were closed by now, and I felt the tears burning behind my eyelids. My hands were holding on to tight on the sides of the sink, and I was too scared to move.

I heard the door open and close again, but I was still too scared to open my eyes. I was too scared to move, too scared to cry. He could still be there. He could be outside, waiting for me.

"Tish," I heard Priestly's worried voice, and a tear rolled down my cheek. I could feel his familiar touch, his hands tracing over my arms and I started to cry even more. Now it wasn't just one tear, now it was a whole flood running down my cheeks.

"Baby, let go. You're gonna hurt yourself."

He was still worried, and I still hadn't opened my eyes. But I could feel his hands on mine, and I realized I was probably holding on too tight. Letting go of the sink, I could feel that my hands were hurting. He was right, if I would have hold on to that sink tighter, I probably would have injured my hands in some kind of way.

As soon as I let go, Priestly turned me around and held me against his chest. I clung to him, grabbing his t-shirt and cried into his shoulder. His arms went tightly around me, holding me close to him.

"What did he do?" he asked after a moment, and I didn't answer right away.

"He... He warned me."

"What did he say?"

"'I'll find you again, and I'll kill you'." My voice broke, and I felt Priestly going rigid and stiff. His embrace became tighter, but I didn't care. I wanted his arms around me. I wanted him even closer. He made me feel safe.

* * *

"We're not staying another day!" I heard Priestly yell from the kitchen. I was sitting at the top of the stairs, listening. As soon as we got back to the house, I went to take a shower while Priestly told Cate and Mark what had happened. I had already told him I still wouldn't press charges, and he knew that. He knew I was terrified.

After the shower, I had sneaked down the stairs and sat down to listen to what was said. But I could only hear Priestly's part of the conversation. He was the loudest.

Suddenly I saw the front door opening, and a beautiful blonde woman walked through the doors. I recognized her from pictures in the house – Mel. Cate and Mark's daughter.

I knew she was supposed to come home for two weeks before school started again, but there was a month left before school would start.

"You must be Tish," she said as she saw me and I nodded. "Mel."

Instead if finding her family, she walked up the stairs with a smile and sat down next to me. Shaking my hand, her smile widened.

"So what is this fight about?"

"You sound like it's not the first one you've heard," I said and she laughed.

"Are you kidding me? Since Priestly moved in, I've heard a few. Not to mention how many _I_ started back in the days."

She laughed, and I found it easy to laugh with her.

We chatted some, and five minutes later Priestly came around the corner and walked up the stairs. He glanced at both me and Mel, but didn't say anything to any of us. His face was flat, and I knew he was upset. He had been angry ever since the cafe.

"I haven't seen _that_ Priestly in a while," she said under her breath and then looked at me. "I should go find my parents. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you around," I told her, got up and walked up the stairs. Priestly's door was closed, but I opened it and walked inside. He sat on the bed, and looked up when I walked inside.

"What did they say?"

"Cate's gonna see what she can do, and if we're lucky we can get out of Brooklyn by the end of the week."

"Good," I said and walked up to him, taking a seat in his lap. I leaned my face down to his, letting our lips almost touch. "Your cousin seems nice."

"Yeah, she is. I should probably go say 'hi' or something."

"She's spending time with Cate and Mark, so you can do that later," I murmured and he looked into my eyes. I locked my arms around his neck, and his hands grabbed my ass. I leaned down the rest of the bit, and let my lips touch his. Sucking on his lip, the kiss grew deeper in a slow pace. Slow and comfortable. But once my tongue was inside his mouth, our breaths were speeding up and growing more and more shallow. I could hear Priestly letting out the groan again, and I knew that he would break the kiss. But I refused to let go.

"Tish..."

"Priestly, please?" I murmured, and I heard him groan again as I gently bit his lower lip. But he didn't let go, and he didn't break the kiss. Instead, since I was straddling him, I could feel exactly how much he really wanted this. It wasn't the firs time I had felt his erection, and it was only the first time that it had made me slightly uncomfortable. Now I just liked it, and it was actually turning me on. I could feel him growing more and more as the kiss proceeded, and I had an idea.

Breaking the kiss, I moved half an inch backward so that I could reach his zipper.

"Ti...-"

"Shh, I just wanna try something," I breathed and felt his eyes on me. So I opened mine, and looked into his beautiful, piercing, green eyes. As I unbuckled his jeans, I could see his erection bulk up. I kissed him again as I closed my eyes and slowly slid my fingers under the edge of his boxers. I hesitated for a moment, but then I slid my whole hand down and gently started rubbing. But I only managed one rub before all those memories came back, and with the memories came tears. Priestly grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand up, breaking the kiss.

"I told you you're not ready," he whispered.

"I'm not ready for sex, but I just thought..." I stopped as the tears became too much and my voice broke.

"Hey, hey, hey," he murmured and cupped my face with his hands.

"I just wanted to..."

"It's okay. You don't have to."

"I want to."

"It will come, when you're ready."

"I _want_ to be ready. I'm desperate to be ready."

"I know," he told me and I leaned my forehead against his. "But maybe you're not ready because you're desperate. Just let it take it's time."


End file.
